Chapter 488 - Proposition (2/2)
”In answer to your question, Mr. Mulciber, much,” Bodrig confessed as he pensively put his hands in front of him to rest. Sneering in anger and disgust, he continues, ”We share a common enemy squib and those foul new muquibs, who are taking the positions of our own brethren.”
”Whether or not said sorry excuses of existence's are hired at Gringotts is no concern to us, purebloods at all,” Mulciber lied with a straight face. ”Gringotts is run by you, goblins, and not by us, wizards. And secondly, there is no possible gain that would forge an alliance between us both.”
”And what if Grok Gringotts is replaced by one of his heirs?” Bodrig smoothly proposed. ”An heir, who would be willing to side with a certain power and finance various endeavors.”
Mulciber slowly nods his head and purses his lips in thought. ”Even if that was the case, there is no guarantee that said potential heir would be approved by the Goblin council nor take the throne. It is a rather risky gamble with a miniscule chance of a high return. And I do not like betting on such unlikely odds.”
”And yet Mr. Mulciber finds himself supporting an individual known as the-,” Bodrig paused to only mouth the words, ”Dark Lord.”
Mulciber's face quickly changes and grows sharp and hard at the goblin's words. ”Is that a threat?” Mulciber growled dangerously.
”No, Mr. Mulciber that is merely an accurate statement of the situation,” Bodrig confidently declared, before changing the subject. ”Now then, before I continue, I must know if you are interested, Mr. Mulciber. I will not further risk myself without at least a vow of silence.”
”I do not like to be threatened, goblin,” Mulciber sneered, before leaning back into his seat. ”I will need some time to consider thine proposal, before I respond with such a binding vow.”
”Very well, Mulciber,” Bodrig condescendingly replied. ”But do not tardy too long, the offer may be rescinded at any time.”
Mulciber merely narrowed his eyes and waved his hands dismissively earning a growl from Radnok, the pigeon-toed. Without a further word, Bodrig led the way with Radnok in tow. Exiting the Silver Chalice in short order, and some distance away finally Radnok exploded in anger. ”How dare a mere purebloood look down on us!” Radnok roared in indignation.
”Calm yourself, Radnok,” Bodrig firmly said in chastis.e.m.e.nt. ”He will accept our offer, but merely does not wish to seem to eager, before doing so. He knows that we are his best bet, and just as he knows that we have need of his services.”
”But Bodrig,” Radnok protested, ”the pureblood's will surely turn on us the first chance they are given.”
”Naturally,” Bodrig confidently replied. ”However, they will be the ones left standing over the corpse of the Goblin King. And no one will the goblin nation will believe otherwise.”
Radnok's eyes brighten in understanding as he scratches his head and hungrily says, ”And then, War, Bodrig?!”
”Yes, Radnok,” Bodrig murmured in a pleased tone of voice. ”And finally, we goblins will cease to be under the yolk of the wizards and take our proper place as the true rulers of the wizarding world.”
Radnok grunts in utter agreement as the two goblins depart and vanish into the night. Their appearance goes largely unnoticed except by those belonging to the night. Except by a certain figure, a rather short wizard with bandy legs that absolutely reeked of tobacco and alcohol, Mundungus Fletcher.